Empty Night
by Gabriel Seraph
Summary: Cedric falls from Heaven and is discovered by Dean and Castiel, whom he had just seen in a dream the previous night. Soon, it becomes clear that something is seriously wrong in the universe, and only with Cedric's help can Dean and Cas put it right. AU (especially for SPN), action violence, occasional bloody hilarity. Set after SPN S8, so spoilers!
1. Chapter 1

AN: This fic is extremely AU for SPN - but how, I cannot say without revealing massive spoilers for this story. There are also spoilers for those of you who haven't seen SPN up to the end of Season 8, so be warned!

Logic? I don't need no stinking logic! Sanity-free storytelling, that's the order of the day from me!

R&R and enjoy!

Chapter 1

Cedric woke up shivering - something he hadn't done for over fifteen years, not since he was still alive. He'd never had too many dreams since then, but tonight had proven the exception to the rule. And a seriously nightmarish one at that.

He'd seen a pair of men, both quite tall, one in a beige trench coat, fighting dementors, of all things. Clearly they weren't wizards, because they didn't even attempt to summon Patronuses to defend themselves with. They just tried to stab the dementors with knives. The one in the trench coat even managed to down one with a bottle full of something that burst into flames on contact with a dementor's body.

This only made it mad, however. The dementor proceeded to grab the man in the trench coat and hold him up to its mouth with one hand, using the other to lower its hood.

"CASTIEL! NO!" Cedric yelled, even though he had no idea what the man's name was, having never seen him before. The other man joined in his cry at exactly the same time, but it was too late. The dementor performed the Kiss on Castiel, and Cedric could only stand there, rooted to the spot with fear, as his soul disappeared into the dementor's misshapen mouth. It floated backwards, looking as close to smug and self-satisfied as a dementor could possibly get

But then something completely unexpected happened. Huge, blinding white light beams lanced out from within the dementor's body. It screeched in pain, but that was nothing compared to the howl of a thousand tornadoes that was emanating from within it. The dementor clawed at its stomach, but the light exploded outward again, and again, finally bursting forth and filling Cedric's eyesight completely...

And then it was over.

He was still dwelling on the nightmare hours later as he served drinks to the loyal customers of the Second Marauder. Sirius Black had opened the restaurant just after he himself had arrived in town, only a year after Cedric's death.

"Something wrong?" asked the customer, a boy with big blond hair who'd ordered a Coke.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry," said Cedric. "Just got a bit distracted, that's all."

The boy took his soda. "You look kinda familiar. Have I seen you before?"

Cedric laughed wryly. "If it's that vampire story that's been spreading around on Earth since I moved out..."

"What vampire story?" asked the boy innocently.

"Oh," said Cedric. "Thank God for that. I've gotten a bit sick of having to tell people I'm not a vampire, nor have I ever been one."

The boy laughed. "Yeah, that doesn't even count as a vampire story anyway. Those creatures don't shrivel and burn in the sunlight, they frickin' _sparkle_. Like _fairies._ Can you believe that?"

"What has the world come to?" Cedric asked.

At this point, a loud rumble echoed throughout the building. "Earthquake?" the boy asked, instinctively dodging underneath the bar.

"We don't get earthquakes here," said Cedric. "I don't understand..."

And then a burst of light pierced Cedric's vision again, just like at the end of his nightmare. The restaurant interior vanished, to be replaced by a dark patch of woods. Lights were streaking through the night sky like a meteor shower.

Seconds later, a tall man in heavy earth-tone colors approached him. "Cas!" he yelled. "I found one!"

He was instantly joined by another tall man. Cedric recognized him instantly as Castiel, the one who'd been Kissed by the dementor in his dream. "Dean...this isn't an angel," said Castiel.

"What? But he just landed here, I saw the light! You sure he's not one of you guys?"

"Absolutely," said Castiel, his voice fading in Cedric's ears as he started to fall unconscious. "But if he fell from Heaven...it's too dangerous for him out here. We need to get him to safety."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Many thanks to those who have favorited and/or followed this story - 12 so far, more than any of my other stories (even my still by-far most-viewed, Alcatraz Season 2.) You know who you are. Especially special thanks to cheshirekitten909 (hope I remembered your handle correctly!), whose decision to follow my story reminded me that it was time to continue it at last, 'cause youse all have waited more than long enough!

Also, hope you guys can spot the ways the most recent ep of SPN ("Devil May Care") inspired the directions I'm taking with this fic now.

R&R and enjoy!

Chapter 2

Cedric stirred awake and was temporarily blinded by a blazing spear of light, which came from a nearby window. Despite the trees and venetian blinds to filter it, the morning sunlight was strong. But then the sunlight faded away, to be replaced with a view of a rocky scree on a cloudy day.

"Cas, stop playing with that," said a sharp voice. Cedric identified its owner as the man called Dean. "You'll wake up Sleeping Beauty."

Castiel, still wearing the same old beige trenchcoat, pulled his hand away from a dial next to the window. Although the realistic appearance of the obviously artificial window reminded Cedric of the magical windows he'd once seen in the halls of the Ministry of Magic, he instinctively knew this was some kind of Muggle technology. _Wonder how else they've come close to replicating magic_, Cedric thought. _How long have I been away again? Fifteen years? Twenty?_

"And don't just ignore the subject," Dean continued. "Tell me, Cas. What are you hiding?"

Cas sighed heavily. "Metatron would never have done what he did on his own," he said. "I would never have seen him as vengeful about being put on Earth. If anything, he actually requested the assignment personally from God. At least, so I've heard it said."

"Why?"

"Even back then, Heavenly politics were...what's the phrase? Royally fucked up." Cas paused to allow Dean a chance to raise his eyebrow in response to the profanity. "One can hardly blame Metatron for wanting to get out of it before he had to pick a side. But that's not the point. Metatron must be taking orders from someone. Either that, or he's somehow been corrupted by a demon."

Dean snorted. "Is that even possible?"

"Perhaps not," said Cas. "Unless...?"

"No." Dean was emphatic. "Absolutely not. He's locked up, and even so he'd never do anything like that."

"Oh, you think?" Cas tried flexing his sarcasm muscle. "He's only the most powerful demon in Hell, after all."

"Powerful assbutt or not, that still doesn't change the fact that-" Dean stopped, realizing Cedric was sitting up in bed. "Oh good, you're awake," he said. "About goddamn time. You're gonna want to follow us, like right away."

Cedric stood up straight. "Wait a moment. Who are you? What do you want?"

"Listen, limey," said Dean, "you're the one who fell out of Heaven, not me. I'd advise you to cool your jets before you go all God-Squad-nuclear on us. Copy?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cedric asked.

Dean turned to Cas. "Guess maybe you were right about him not being an angel," he said wryly. "He cusses. Imagine that."

"I only cuss, as you say, because I've lived down here long enough to pick up your dialect and mirror it," said Cas.

"No more robot-y talk, Cas," said Dean. "Let's go, buddy. We got ourselves a real fallen angel to go and pick up."

Cedric was concerned that he had taken the wrong turn on his way to the Second Marauder that day and had somehow fallen down a particularly twisted rabbit hole. Fallen angels? God-Squad-nuclear? What fresh hell was this? His stomach in knots - a feeling he hadn't experienced since the night he died - he nevertheless reluctantly followed Dean and Cas out of the room and through a long tunnel, finally emerging onto an asphalt road with an old American car parked on the opposite side. It was daytime, but the sun was starting to set, creating orange bolts of light that shone between tall trees, just like in the changing window Cas had been experimenting with earlier.

Opening the back door, Cedric took his seat behind Cas - since he was shorter, his seat was adjusted further forward, allowing more legroom behind him than did Dean. Just as he was about to lean back against the leather upholstery, something pounded the back of the seat, and Cedric could hear another British-accented voice (though arguably more uncouth than his own) yelling, "Oi! Dean, I know you can hear me! Get me the bloody hell out of here already!"

Cedric flinched away, prompting Dean to turn around. "Don't be scared," he said. "That's just Crowley. He's a crossroads demon, but he's totally harmless right now. Wouldn't hurt a fly...or, more accurately, couldn't. Not while he's trapped there."

"Crossroads demon," repeated Cedric. "Good to know. Now, can someone please tell me what we're doing right now?"

Dean and Cas exchanged glances, and Cas answered Cedric's question. "All the angels were banished from Heaven last night, and in order to do so, the spellcaster needed an angel's Grace - that is, his power. So he stole it from a dear friend of ours named Ezekiel, who's now wandering around all by himself and in serious danger. If we don't get him before the other angels do, he might find himself dead, or worse."

"What could be worse than death?" asked Cedric. "You guys sound like Voldemort."

"Who?" asked Dean.

"The man who killed me," said Cedric. "But that's not important. Why would angels be killing one of their own?"

Dean chuckled. "It's always amusing to explain this to outsiders," he said. "But whatever angels you've heard of from your parents...trust me, our angels are different. _Way_ different." Without another word, Dean turned the key, fired the old car up, and slid a cassette tape into the player tucked into the dash. A light acoustic rock song started playing, something about a stairway to heaven. _That's exactly what I need now_, thought Cedric. _A way back home before my dream comes true and everything goes pear-shaped. Isn't that the Muggle expression? Pear-shaped? I'll really have to ask Dean at some point._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean pulled the old car up outside of a low-slung metal building marked "Diner," then turned off the ignition. He turned to Cedric and asked, "I don't really know how else to ask this, so I'll just be blunt about it. Do you eat?"

"What?" Cedric was a bit nonplussed. "Oh, you're thinking, since I'm dead, I don't eat? Well, actually, I do. What do they make here?"

"Burgers, fries, and a shake," said Dean.

Cedric nodded. It sounded just like the sort of food Sirius served at the Second Marauder. "Make it a chocolate shake, then," he said.

"Sure you don't want anything like strawberry? Something fruity?" Dean chuckled. "Nah, I'm just messin' with ya. Chocolate it is." He closed the door and headed inside, leaving Castiel and Cedric alone.

"Um, I don't believe we got your name," said Castiel.

"Oh," said Cedric. "Not much of a surprise. Your friend doesn't place much importance on manners, does he? It's Cedric, by the way. Cedric Diggory."

"My name is Castiel," said Castiel, holding his hand out to shake.

"Yeah, I already picked up on both your names," said Cedric. "And you're obviously not human, so what are you?"

"An Angel of the Lord," said Castiel. "Or, at least, I used to be. The rest of the angels will have nothing to do with me. Three years ago, I tried and failed to stop Lucifer himself from acquiring the body of a certain young man who became my friend, along with Dean." Castiel swallowed. "As you can imagine, that sort of thing didn't go over well upstairs."

"And you said something about the angels being cast out of Heaven?" asked Cedric.

Castiel sighed heavily. "Yes. Metatron, the scribe who wrote the Word, performed a spell to lock the gates of Heaven and banish the angels."

"I'm sorry I asked," said Cedric. "No offense, but all this is really making my head spin."

"That's not much of a surprise," said Castiel. "You're not an angel. Even angels sometimes have a bit of trouble comprehending the bizarreness of the...er...misadventures Dean and I tend to get into regularly."

"Try me," said Cedric. "After being killed by Lord Voldemort, I think I can handle a few twisted stories - wait, what was that?" The car shuddered slightly, as if someone else had collided with it.

Castiel bristled, and opened the glove box to reveal a small but fearsome-looking knife - toothed, with a plain wooden handle. "Get out of here," he said. "I smell a demon."

"You mean, besides the one that's being kept in the-AAAARGH!" The door flew open and black smoke flooded in, pouring into Cedric's open mouth. The agony was indescribable. Being killed had only hurt for a split second, and that had been the worst feeling Cedric had ever experienced. Until now. This unknown attack felt like he was being slammed by a dozen _Avada Kedavra_ curses at once. And it didn't stop after a split second like the real thing did, it kept going on and on, even when the black smoke stopped pouring in.

"Castiel," said Cedric's mouth, but Cedric wasn't the one doing the moving. With horror, he realized he was being possessed, and fought to break free, but to no avail.

"Lucifer," said Castiel. "What do you want now? Here to gloat?"

"That would be too easy," said the thing inside Cedric. "As a matter of fact, I really hope you expend all available effort to defeat me. It's no fun doing evil deeds unchallenged, don't you know that? Of course you wouldn't. Silly angel, all you see is the good side of everything. But - and correct me if I'm wrong, which, er, by the way, I'm not - didn't the angels get rid of you months ago?"

"We left by mutual agreement," said Castiel. "Something I'm sure you know all about."

Lucifer, or whatever the demon's name was, chuckled nastily. Cedric shuddered; he'd never even known his vocal chords were capable of making such dreadful noises. "True. I have a message for Dean Winchester, angel, although I'm sure you can stand to hear it too because it also concerns you, to some extent. Your Grace-less friend is holed up in South Lake Tahoe. Meet him there and maybe then you'll stand a chance to return all your former brethren to heaven."

"I'd ask you to swear on your soul, but you don't have one," said Castiel.

"You flatter only yourself, angel," said Lucifer. "Ooh. The memories inside this young man's mind...they inspire me." As Cedric fought to block out all memories of Lord Voldemort and dementors and God knew what other things he'd encountered in his final two years of life, Lucifer added, "I think now you'll need this one along for the ride, too. Only he can defend you from the things I'm about to set on you and your human friend."

_Shit,_ Cedric cursed internally. _Where's Occlumency when you need it?_

"Oh, and do us all a favor and release Crowley," said Lucifer, using Cedric's hand to gesture behind him at the trunk. "He's been beseeching me to rescue him for days, and it's really getting on my nerves." With that, he exited Cedric's body in another cloud of black smoke, which Dean noticed as he left the diner. Dropping the doggy bag full of fried greasy goodness, he raced towards the car, revolver in hand, but by then Lucifer had gone. He looked around, as if hoping to see something, but then shook his head, recovered the fallen food, and reentered the car.

"Did you see him?" Castiel asked, as he stowed the knife back inside the glove box.

"No," said Dean. "Then again, he could just be out of sight somewhere."

"Who? What? What are you talking about?" asked Cedric shakily.

Dean turned to him with a look of faint sympathy. "I see you've met Lucifer. Charming fellow, isn't he? Cas, find the nearest tattoo parlor," he said. "We need to get this guy some protection, stat."

But Cedric was done being ignored. "Who's Lucifer?" he asked. "Who's in South Lake Tahoe?"

Dean handed back Cedric's meal, which he started to eat despite the fact that they were all coated in a thin layer of dust from the parking lot. He also handed back a photo of himself standing arm in arm with another man - taller, with long hair, but bearing a noticeable resemblance to Dean. "If you ever see this man," said Dean, "then get the hell away from him immediately. _That's_ Lucifer. He's been inhabiting my dear baby brother's meat suit for the last three years plus."

"Excuse me," said Cedric, swallowing a dusty fry. "Did you say-"

"My brother, yeah," said Dean. "Sammy. Poor bastard. I still have trouble believing he was supposed to be the vessel for the Devil himself."


End file.
